> Discordian Nights
>  by Lev the Lurker
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Fnord
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Zizanie sat alone in her cell in the Canterlot dungeons, her hooves manacled and her magic made impotent by the ring tightly wrapped around her horn. She was trapped, utterly and completely, with no more leverage, no more secrets, having betrayed all of her employers, ratted out all of her contacts, and given every last resource she had to an immortal mare who had merely promised not to have her killed in return. It was a small comfort, to know that her stay in the cold, grey room wouldn’t be cut short by the snap of a rope, but all that left her with was a long, miserable life confined to four walls and a cot.
The rest of her section of the dungeons was empty, the nearest ponies being the guards on the other side of a large wooden door at the far end of the hall. With nothing to do but sit and no company but her own mind, she spent her time staring at a wall and thinking about how her life had gone so horribly wrong. She had just begun to chuckle sadly to herself for having had dreams of flying in an airship only a few days ago when she heard the groaning squeak of heavy hinges. She turned to see an earth pony member of the Night Guard, her coat, mane and armor various shades of darkly sinister purple, open and close the hall door behind her before trotting up to Zizanie’s cell. The guard plopped down on her plot with a heavy thud, her grin white and wide as a half moon as she stared at the imprisoned pony with her golden, slitted eyes. A few moments of thick awkwardness passed, Zizanie speechless as the guard continued to smile silently.
“Well done, sister,” the armored purple pony said at last, her demonic eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Wha…what?” was all that Zizanie could muster in response.
“I’m congratulating you, silly,” said the strange mare, her grin somehow seeming to widen as she cocked her head at an angle. “You did your bloodline proud, and I felt like you deserved some praise for your work. It was, as Daddy would say, ‘A catastrophe played by a symphony.’” Now it was Zizanie’s eyes that widened.
“Bloodline?” she gasped in surprise. “You’re…you’re a Discordian? But…but…you’re a Night Guard, how…?”
“Oh, this?” said the mare, her eyes darting to the top of her head. “Nah, this is just something I used to get in here, but I can see how that could be confusing, especially with all these illusions and stuff.” As she said that, she lifted the helmet off her head, dispelling the spellwork masking her appearance. Her coat became a much lighter, almost pink shade of purple, while her mane became long and poofy, with swirls of white inside the lavender. Zizanie, however, was still drawn to her eyes, which had replaced her golden, reptilian stare with pupil-less swirls of dark and light purple that seemed to spin like some sort of hypnotic disks. “My name’s Screwball, pleasure to meet you,” she said, setting the helmet down before holding out a hoof for Zizanie to shake.
Zizanie glanced between the mare’s eyes and hoof, not sure which one disturbed her more. “How did you get in here?”
“The front door, of course,” answered Screwball with a childish giggle.
“But…where did you get that armor?”
“Borrowed it.” 
“How?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Zizanie felt her confusion slowly simmer into frustration.
“Why are you here?!” growled Zizanie as menacingly as she could while locked in iron.
“Like I told you: to let you know that your actions and sacrifice are greatly appreciated,” said Screwball, her smile shrinking to something smaller, but almost warmer. “What you did today, by throwing the Gala into chaos and poisoning all the nobles with the truth of their deeds, will bring about more change than you could imagine, at a time when Equestria needs it most desperately. And, on behalf of our entire family, I would like to thank you.” Zizanie’s eyes widened, and a small glimmer of hope stirred in her chest.
“The Discordians sent you?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
“Huh? Oh, no, of course not,” said Screwball with a chuckle. “I sent myself, of course; Discordians can’t do anything as a group, it’s impossible. Cooperation goes against our very nature. I mean, I know ten different languages, and in none of them does ‘An organization of Discordians’ make sense. Though, I guess that one family did try for a few decades, but holy disequilibrium restored itself in the end. So yeah, nope, just me.”
“Okay, so just you…” muttered Zizanie, the faint flame in her heart flickering. “And you want to…thank me? Can you…can you get me out of here? Make me free?” To the unicorn’s horror, Screwball started to laugh at her.
“No, of course not, silly; that would be illegal,” she said between chuckles as Zianie’s hopes died. “Nope, instead your reward is…drinks!” With a flourish, Screwball pulled two glasses and a wine jug out of…somewhere, Zizanie wasn’t quite sure.
“What do you mean ‘it’s illegal’?” snapped Zizanie angrily as Screwball slid a glass between the bars. “You’re a Discordian! Why do you care about Luna’s laws?!”
“Because I work for her, sort of,” said Screwball before pulling unplugging the jug with her teeth and spitting the cork at her helmet with a sharp ring. “Well, not with her or under her, and she’ll probably arrest me or something if I get caught in here, but the way I see it, we’re on the same side. I am the seventh Element of Harmony, afterall.”
“You’re what?” said Zizanie in disbelief. Her head was starting to hurt, and some wine was beginning to sound more and more comforting. “How can a pony of chaos be an Element of Harmony?”
“Well, as the Element of Surprise, of course” said Screwball, striking a noble pose with a proud flourish before bursting into more laughter at the look on Zizanie’s face. “Oh, wow, you must be in pretty bad shape to fall for that one. Remember, honey, a Discordian isn’t supposed to believe anything they read. Too many things in this world try to pull the blinders over our eyes for us to every really trust someone, even ourselves. Though usually I much prefer honestly, to be honest. Afterall, chaos is truth; it is order and disorder that are lies.” Zizanie now desperately needed a drink, or several, and she stared longingly at the jug as Screwball slowly tipped it over, the red liquid streaming out of the lip of the bottle and into the glass cup, where it swirled into a rich, creamy brown.
Zizanie’s eye twitched as she stared at the murky glass, feeling her spirit deflate as he mind began to fray and snap. Screwball was oblivious to the unicorn’s despair as she poured her own glass, setting aside the sloshing jug before raising her cup high. “A toast!” shout shouted happily. “To Zizanie, beloved daughter of Discord, who has brought glorious change to Equestria on the eve of its brightest hour!” As Screwball gulped down her drink, Zizanie warily lifted her glass and took a sip, the cool liquid spreading an unexpectedly pleasant taste across her tongue.
“Chocolate milk,” she said with a small smile between sips. “I love chocolate milk…”
“Then finish that up and have some more,” said Screwball, her eyes spinning wildly with glee as she shook the still nearly full jug, and Zizanie obliged.
“So…what do you mean, ‘brightest hour?’” asked Zizanie as Screwball refilled both their glasses, the red wine again inexplicably turning into dark milk almost midair. Screwball set the jug down, but just stared at her cup in silent as Zizanie sipped her drink, the spinning of the earth pony’s eyes slowing to a stop as her face became hard and contemplative.
“Do you know how, when you look at a pony who’s become content with their life, satisfied with their current routine and status, and you get this feeling in your barrel?” said Screwball, patting a hoof over her heart. “This…urge to just upset their life, to shatter their sheltered existence, to force them to move, to react, to change, because you know deep, deep down that they’ve become stagnant and just…just… that it’s wrong to let them live on like that?”
Zizanie found herself nodding along as she sipped her milk, remembering when she had gotten her cutie mark, how she’s used her special talent, the countless lives she had upset, and how it had never seemed wrong to her before she had to face Luna’s furious gaze.
“Discordians serve a purpose,” continued Screwball, her drink still untouched. “We keep the world from becoming stagnant. We keep things out of balance, because live cannot exist without disequilibrium, and our magic is just as natural as what pegasi or earth ponies do. Daddy was a…overreaction to ponies trying to control the world, and had to be sealed away. It makes me sad, but it’s necessary, because if there’s too much change then ponies suffer, too. But those of us he left behind, the remnants of his power, his children, we maintain just enough change to keep the world moving forwards. The Night Court’s decadence had become the norm, it’s stability had become corruption, and it’s stagnation would have doomed us all.”
Screwball finally picked up her cup and drank it, leaving a cylinder of chocolate milk floating in the air. She tossed the milk against the wall, where it burst into flames that quickly died in a puff of smoke, then picked up the wine jug and turned it sideways until it was perfectly flat and thin before shoving it through a seem between the bricks in the floor.
“Equestria could not have stood with the Night Court as divided and festering as it was,” said Screwball as she picked up her helmet and placed it back on her head, the illusion of a fearsomely purple guard adding even more foreboding to her words. “Though your crimes are numerous, your actions may well have saved us all.” Zizanie watched in stunned silence as Screwball bowed began walking back towards the hall.
“Wait!” Zizanie cried just as Screwball opened the large wooden door. “What does that mean? What’s going to happen?” Screwball stared at the unicorn prisoner with cold, reptilian eyes.
“To you? I don’t know,” said Screwball sadly. “But I will tell you this: Equestria must brace itself. Summer is coming. The Tyrant Sun rises, and her flames threaten to smother us all.” And with that, she left, closing the door behind her with a heavy thunk. Zizanie sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to think about what her strange visitor had said. She reached for her glass of chocolate milk, hoping for one last drink of happiness, but all her hooves found was cold stone.
Not for the last time, Zizanie silently wondered if she was going insane.